


Into the Fire

by only_more_love



Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mild Smut, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-19
Updated: 2008-10-01
Packaged: 2018-05-06 13:15:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 7,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5418440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/only_more_love/pseuds/only_more_love
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of oneshot 300-word ficlets about Booth and Brennan crossing the line over and over again. Please note the rating and genre.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fire

**Title:**  Fire  
**Pairing:**  Booth/Brennan  
**Series:** Into the Fire  
**Prompt:**  #5 (Burn)  
**Prompt Table:** Sex  
**Written for:** drabble123 at LiveJournal  
**Rating:**  M  
**Word Count:**  300  
**Spoilers:**  None  
**Warning:**  If you prefer not to read about fictional people engaging in sexual activity, don't read this series.  
**Disclaimer:**  Bones and its characters belong to FOX, not me. This story is purely meant to entertain. No copyright infringement is intended.

Without knowing why she was there, Brennan found herself standing outside Booth's apartment. Again. This wasn't the first time, and she knew it wouldn't be the last. She lifted a hand and knocked briskly before she could change her mind and walk away without him even being aware of her presence.

The door opened with a squeak. "Bones." One word, the nickname he'd given her and she'd tacitly accepted without ever consciously intending to do so. When it came to Booth, she'd done many things she'd never intended to do. What difference did one (two, three, four) more make? Surprised eyes met hers and she faltered, at a loss for words.

Booth's mouth shifted into a smirk at her silence; she took advantage of the moment to step inside and slam the door shut behind her. Before he had a chance to react, she caught his face in one hand and pulled it down to hers. He didn't push her away.

Their mouths joined in a kiss that was part fury, part passion, and all need. Her breath sounded harsh in her ears. She burned for him-there was no point in pretending otherwise, she thought, as she slipped her other hand under the mellow cotton of his t-shirt and sank her fingers into the warm flesh of his back. Then down, further down, and she made a frustrated sound as she tugged him closer, feeling his erection rub against her-but not where she wanted him.

Booth pulled away, his breath ragged. "Want me?" he asked.

Denial was futile. As soon as he slid his hand beneath her underwear, he would find the evidence. The sooner she told him the truth, the sooner she would find relief. "Yes," she said, squeezing her legs together against a growing ache.

"Then come here."


	2. Sex, Socks

**Title:**  Sex, Socks  
 **Pairing:**  Booth/Brennan  
 **Series:** Into the Fire  
 **Prompt:**  #13 (Obey)  
 **Prompt Table:** Sex  
 **Written for:** drabble123 at LiveJournal  
 **Rating:** T or M  
 **Word Count:**  300  
 **Spoilers:**  None  
 **Disclaimer:**  Bones and its characters belong to FOX, not me. This story is purely meant to entertain. No copyright infringement is intended.  
 **Author Note:** I'm going to have to do another one for this prompt because I had something slightly edgier in mind. But this is what came out instead. I think this can stand alone, but you can also read it as a continuation of the previous ficlet. The choice is yours. :)

 

Afterward, Brennan lay sated and drowsy in Booth's bed, her head pillowed on one hand. With half-open eyes she watched as he returned from the bathroom.

A smile flickered across his face as he bent over her. "Hey, Sleepy. Why don't you stay?"

"Mm, no." The words came out slurred. "Stop that." She batted his hand away when he tickled her nose with the ends of her hair. "I have reading to do."

He snorted. "Sure. Like that's happening tonight."

Despite her wanting to leave right then, if only for the pleasure of proving Booth wrong, her limbs wouldn't obey her brain's dictates. "Fine. I'll stay." With herculean effort, she raised the index finger of her free hand. "But only because I can't move."

Booth's mouth curled in a grin that communicated entirely too much self-satisfaction. "Because I made you come twice."

"That's nothing extraordinary. Female physiology allows for multiple orgasms in one session."

"Yeah, but you didn't just spontaneously have them. Admit it: I made you come - twice."

Taking in his gleeful expression, she relented. "That you did."

The light in his eyes made the admission worthwhile.

"Yup. Now scoot over."

"Why?"

"You're on my side of the bed."

"But the other side is too warm now."

"Tough shit. My bed, my rules." He nudged her shoulder; she reluctantly rolled over.

"Maybe I'll just go home."

"Shut up." He laid down, curving his body around hers. "Here" - he dangled a pair of socks imprinted with skeletons over her face - "put 'em on."

"But why?"

"Because your feet are like ice cubes."

Grinning, Brennan pressed one foot against Booth's shin.

He flinched. "Hey! Put on the damn socks, woman."

"Remind me why I tolerate you."

He palmed her breast. "That help?"

She smiled. "Only a little bit."


	3. Control

**Title:**  Control  
 **Pairing:**  Booth/Brennan  
 **Series:** Into the Fire  
 **Prompt:**  #9 (Restraint)  
 **Written for:** drabble123 at LiveJournal  
 **Rating:** M  
 **Disclaimer:**  Bones and its characters belong to FOX, not me. This story is purely meant to entertain. No copyright infringement is intended.  
 **Warning:** Mild BDSM

 

"Are you sure about this?"

Brennan shrugged and raised an eyebrow. "Turnabout is fair play."

* * *

Booth bound her wrists and ankles to her bedposts with the silk scarves she bought on her last trip to Italy, leaving her exposed to his hands, mouth, and whims. Frowning, she gave an experimental tug and found that she was indeed at his mercy. The discovery sent shivers racing over her skin.

"Ranger knots." He smiled slowly, eyes glinting. "They'll hold."

* * *

"I'll give you what you want," he said, and she gasped, arching as he skimmed one long finger over her before raising it, glistening, to his lips, "but you have to ask for it."

She wasn't used to asking for what she wanted. Usually she simply took it. But now she could have nothing but what he would give her.

Her stomach fluttered as she watched him suck his finger into his mouth. The scent of her arousal blanketed the air; if she could smell it, so could he. Swallowing hard, she shook her head, trying to ignore her body's demand for release.

"Let's see if I can't change your mind about that." He brushed his stubbled cheek over her nipple and then flicked it with his tongue, pulling away and laughing as she gave an involuntary moan. Anger made her narrow her eyes, but when Booth pulled back, she saw the perspiration beaded on his forehead.

"Who's in control here?" she asked, and his gaze swung back to meet hers.

"I don't know," he replied, flattening his hand against her stomach.

"Me either." She exhaled. "Please."

He inhaled sharply. "Please what?"

"So you want me to beg?"

"Would that be so bad?" His hand lifted from her stomach, hovering.

She let her gaze drift over his body. "No. Please fuck me, Booth."


	4. When I Think About You

**Title:**  When I Think About You  
 **Pairing:**  Booth/Brennan  
 **Series:** Into the Fire  
 **Prompt:**  #11 (Vanilla)  
 **Written for:** drabble123 at LiveJournal  
 **Rating:** M  
 **Disclaimer:**  Bones and its characters belong to FOX, not me. This story is purely meant to entertain. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

Booth swiveled on his stool to watch Angela's unsteady approach. "Sweetie, I love you. Have I told you that lately?" Angela threw an arm around Brennan's shoulders, bouncing up and down on her toes, and her drink wobbled in her free hand.

"Only five times in the past ten minutes," Brennan replied, flashing her an amused look.

"You've got it all, honey," Angela continued."Brains, booty-"

"Angela!"

"It's true. Bren, you are smoking." Angela glanced at him, grinning. "Isn't she, Booth?"

Booth took another swig of his beer. Leaning back, he propped an elbow on the bar and let his gaze drift from Brennan's eyes to her chest and back again, pretending to consider Angela's question. "She's right, Bones," he finally said, and her eyes narrowed. "You are pretty hot."

He winked, watching her frown. No doubt he'd pay for teasing her, but he loved keeping her off-balance.

"You two are so flirty," Angela said, wiggling her fingers. "I love it. Now excuse me; I have to make out with my fiancé."

Shaking his head, Booth turned away. Someone tapped his shoulder.

"I'm not wearing any underwear," Brennan said, breath whispering against his ear.

So she'd gotten her payback sooner than expected. Overachiever.

Brennan's hand lifted. Booth caught her wrist before she could move, tugging her to stand between his legs. "Do something for me," he said, keeping his voice low.

"What?"

"Go into the bathroom and touch yourself."

She inhaled sharply, eyes widening.

"But stop before you come."

"Booth..."

"Do it."

* * *

Brennan returned, cheeks noticeably flushed. "Everything OK?" Booth asked.

"Of course."

"Then let's go. We're all gonna grab dinner at this new Mexican place." He led her out, one hand at her back, following behind the squints.

It'd be hours before they got home, he thought, smiling.


	5. Every Little Thing

**Title:**  Every Little Thing  
 **Pairing:** Booth/Brennan  
 **Series:** Into the Fire  
 **Prompt: #1** (Skin)  
 **Written for:**  drabble123 at LiveJournal  
 **Rating:** T  
 **Disclaimer:**  Bones and its characters belong to FOX, not me. This story is purely meant to entertain. No copyright infringement is intended.  
 **Feedback:** is always appreciated. If criticizing, please be constructive.

 

She's done something to her eyes. Booth can tell because they're bluer than usual and shimmering in the low light of the restaurant as she watches him from across the table. Brennan takes a sip of her wine, and he wishes then they were sitting next to each other instead. Face serious, she sets down her glass, her fingers running up and down the stem; his mouth goes dry as he silently tracks the small movements.

"Is everything all right?" she asks. "You've hardly touched your dessert."

He looks down. Most of his Tiramisu still sits on his plate, uneaten. It's good, though he'd have been just as happy with pie. But they're always at the diner or eating takeout in bed, and he wanted to take her some place different - some place where they'd have to dress up to go. Now here they are, their meal barely finished, and he can't wait to leave. He clears his throat. "Yeah. It's great."

Her hand drifts from her glass to her throat, drawing his gaze to the deep vee of her dress. When he feels her foot brush his leg, he nearly jumps out of his chair. The corners of her mouth twitch, confirming his suspicion that she knows exactly what she's doing. Who knew his beautiful partner would be such a tease? The foot moves higher, pressing into his crotch, and he's suddenly very happy they're in a fancy restaurant with long tablecloths.

Leaning forward, he reaches for Brennan's other hand. Turning it over, he strokes her wrist, his fingers tracing the path of blue veins. A sigh slips out, and the way her eyes widen tell him it took her by surprise. "Let's go," she says.

"You sure?"

"Completely."

Booth smiles and raises his hand for the check.

* * *

**Author Note:**  Since some people had questions about what vanilla had to do with the last ficlet, I thought I'd clarify. The challenge isn't set up so that you have to explicitly use a given prompt in your story (i.e. I didn't have to actually use the word "vanilla" in the previous ficlet). It's used as a jumping-off point - a free association or brainstorming tool. But in case you're curious, here's how my thinking went with the last ficlet - what transpired in that one isn't what I'd consider "vanilla" sex. ;)

Does that make sense? If not, let me know.


	6. Standing Still

**Title:**  Standing Still  
 **Pairing:** Booth/Brennan  
 **Series:** Into the Fire  
 **Prompt:** #2 (Breathe)  
 **Written for:**  drabble123 at LiveJournal  
 **Word Count:**  300  
 **Rating:** T  
 **Disclaimer:**  Bones and its characters belong to FOX, not me. This story is purely meant to entertain. No copyright infringement is intended.  
 **Feedback:** is always appreciated. If criticizing, please be constructive.

 

After spending most of the rainy evening retrieving bone fragments from a ditch, neither of them were in a good mood. "I just want a hot shower and my bed," Brennan said as they trudged across asphalt by the cool light of the moon. The sharp edge to her voice convinced Booth of her seriousness, but after slanting a glance at her profile, he decided to take his chances.

"Come back to my place. My shower's just as good. So's my bed." He paused, pulling out his best smile. "As a bonus, you get me," he said, easing his arm around her waist.

"Booth..." Somehow she managed to fill the word with a world of weariness.

"Please?"

They stopped next to Brennan's car. The wrinkle between her eyebrows telegraphed her inner struggle. "All right," she finally said.

"Thank you."

Without speaking, she moved to lean against his side for a heartbeat.

* * *

"You're wasting water," she said as he turned on the shower with the intention of letting it run till the water got nice and hot.

"I don't care." Turning, he slipped his hands underneath the hem of her shirt and stroked his thumbs over the soft skin of her stomach, toward her hips, and back again. A shiver ran through her and into him. He watched her eyes slide shut. Smiling, Booth inched the shirt up and over her head and arms, then let it fall to the floor.

Her breasts pressed against his chest as he drew her toward him. With a sigh, he bent his head to her shoulder and dropped a kiss there. He inhaled; she smelled like damp earth, green and mossy.

Wordlessly, she shifted closer.

"Poor Bones." He pitched his voice low. "Tired?"

She nodded.

"Then let's get you cleaned up and into bed."


	7. Never Enough

**Title:**  Never Enough  
 **Series:** Into the Fire  
 **Prompt:** #4 (Masturbation)  
 **Written for:**  drabble123 at LiveJournal  
 **Word Count:**  300  
 **Rating:** M  
 **Timeline:** Season 3 summer  
 **Disclaimer:**  Bones and its characters belong to FOX, not me. This story is purely meant to entertain. No copyright infringement is intended.  
 **Feedback:** is always appreciated. Thank you.

 

The air conditioner's busted, and even with the windows open, it's too hot to sleep. Every so often a sluggish current of air moves into the room, just nudging the blinds. Booth lies in bed and stares up at the ceiling. His body is slicked with sweat, and the sheets stick to his back, making him shift uncomfortably every few minutes. The effects of the cold shower he took hours ago have worn off, and all he wants to do is close his eyes and drift off for the night.

Sighing, he scrubs a hand through his hair; it comes away damp. He knows it's unlikely he'll fall asleep anytime soon, but he's gotta try. So he shuts his eyes and lets his hand drift down from his stomach. He's already half hard. It only takes a minute of picturing Brennan in the thin, sleeveless, v-neck shirt she'd worn that day to go from half to fully.

He'd known there'd be hell to pay if she caught him staring, so he'd done his best to sneak peeks when her attention was clearly focused elsewhere. If he squinted hard enough, he could just make out the beginning of her cleavage, and it got him so hot he had to think of something really gross in order to swing his mind back to their case.

He hasn't been thirteen and horny in a long, long time; sometimes Brennan makes him feel like he still is.

As he strokes himself, he can't help hoping that one day she'll take off whatever she's wearing and let him see what till now he's only fantasized about.

Booth comes silently, his mouth forming her name.

After cleaning up and returning to bed, he wonders how much longer his hand and his imagination will be enough.

* * *

**Author Note:**  Ok, so maybe this is more sad than hot. I'm not sure. But I  _am_ sure that Booth's had a lot of sleepless nights thanks to Brennan.

 

 


	8. Hiding

**Title:**  Hiding  
 **Series:** Into the Fire  
 **Prompt:** #15 (Want)  
 **Written for:**  drabble123 at LiveJournal  
 **Word Count:**  300  
 **Rating:** M  
 **Timeline:** After Season 3  
 **Disclaimer:**  Bones and its characters belong to FOX, not me. This story is purely meant to entertain. No copyright infringement is intended.  
 **Feedback:** is always appreciated. Thank you.

 

Three years of partnership, of sharing meals, rides, and post-case euphoria and grief, and Booth navigates her moods and expressions like he's got a Temperance Brennan atlas. Sometimes she argues out of a reflexive need to question and push – and he gets that; sometimes she argues for the pure fun of it, and the tiny twitch of her lips gives her away. Then sometimes she just believes she's right, crystalline eyes blazing with the fire of the righteous.

It's a fire he'd never want to extinguish – even if he could.

Now, he pulls the blanket over their heads and bodies, temporarily cocooning them away from a world he knows will intrude all too soon with the chime of a cell phone and news of another atrocity, another body, another crime that needs investigating.

The world needs them; he needs her.

So Booth shuts his eyes and whispers something against the velvety spot where her throat and shoulder meet. Brennan twists and laughs underneath him, perpetual motion, shoving his chest with warm hands that touch more than his skin. "Stop, you're tickling me," she says, the words breathless and easy in a way nothing else she's ever said to him has been.

He likes to make her laugh, but then there are lots of things he likes to do to her. Lifting his head, he moves down. With open eyes, he watches her, gaze slipping from her face to her body and back again. As he strokes his thumb over white cotton, not for the first time and not for the last, her laughter slides into a sigh he's learning to understand means, "Yes. That. More."

Her nipple contracts, pushing up through fabric, needing him, and Booth hardens in response. Brennan blinks. Booth smiles and lowers his head to her breast.


	9. Lessons

**Title:**  Lessons  
 **Series:** Into the Fire  
 **Prompt:** #20 (Writer's Choice)  
 **Written for:**  drabble123 at LiveJournal  
 **Word Count:**  300  
 **Rating:** T  
 **Timeline:** November 2009  
 **Disclaimer:**  Bones and its characters belong to FOX, not me. This story is purely meant to entertain. No copyright infringement is intended.

 

**Lessons**

It's the third anniversary of their rescue from the bowels of the earth. Time has loosened memory's hold on her, but it doesn't take much for Brennan to recall the thin air and the despair that had tightened her lungs and been reflected in Hodgins' haunted gaze.

She and Hodgins commemorate their rescue with lunch. Though it's an unusual occurrence for them to dine without anyone else, no one questions them on this day. But Booth insists on driving them to the restaurant and picking them up when they're finished.

"I'm gonna grab a sandwich from Max's Deli," Booth tells her as she and Hodgins exit the SUV, but she has examined his face from too many angles and heard the thousand cadences of his voice too many times to be fooled by the lie; she knows he will sit outside the restaurant and keep watch over them both.

She could fight him. She could disarm his irrationality with the weapon of logic. She could argue she doesn't need his protection. But he needs to offer it – even if they both know it is a comforting illusion at best. And this, she's learned through being with him, is a necessary part of a relationship – knowing when to let the other person's needs supersede your own.

Not an easy lesson. Not one she's mastered. But since he needs to be her paladin today, she lets him. Just as she lets him take her back to his place that night, where he shows her again that sometimes two people can come close to breaking the laws of physics.

As sleep claims her that night, Brennan thinks that she would never have learned these lessons had Booth and the others who have become so much more than colleagues not found her and Hodgins.


	10. On Your Shore

**Title:**  On Your Shore  
 **Pairing:** Booth/Brennan  
 **Series:** Into the Fire  
 **Series Summary:** This is a series of oneshot 300-word ficlets about Booth and Brennan crossing the line over and over again.  
 **Prompt:** #7 (Boundaries)  
 **Prompt Table:** Sex  
 **Written for:** drabble123 **  
Word Count:**  300 **  
Rating:** PG-ish **  
Spoilers:** None **  
Disclaimer:**  Bones and its characters belong to FOX, not me. This story is purely meant to entertain. No copyright infringement is intended. **  
Feedback:** is always appreciated. Thank you very much to all who comment!  **  
Note:** Think of this as taking place sometime after _Fire_ , the first ficlet in this series. You might want to read that first.

**On Your Shore**

They haven't talked about it yet – whatever it is they're doing on the nights when she shows up on his doorstep with a bottle of wine in her hand and a promise in her eyes.

There is daytime Booth and Brennan: he urges her forward with a touch at her back and shoots her narrowed glances over the tops of his shades. She rolls her eyes and quirks her lips when he extols the virtues of eating meat.

Then there is nighttime Booth and Brennan: at 3:00 A.M., Booth finishes a stakeout and finds his truck slicing through the night on a course to her place, not his. Shoulders tight, he unlocks her door, exhaling only once he's stepped inside.

He doesn't need it to maneuver his way into her kitchen, but the light above her stove twinkles, pushing away the shadows that peer over Booth's shoulder. She left it on for him. The thought makes him smile – until he catches his mind wandering to lighthouses and lonely sailors on dark oceans – and he silently calls himself an idiot.

The sour cream and onion chips he likes but never asked her to buy sit in a cabinet, leaning against her SunChips. He shovels a handful into his mouth before switching off the light and trailing down to her bedroom.

Too tired to brush, he yanks off his clothes and dumps them on the floor before lifting the blanket and sliding in behind her. His fingers smooth over the bare skin of her back, lingering in a way they don't during the day.

A sigh. "Booth?" she murmurs.

"Yeah." Stroking her hair, he kisses her shoulder.

Another sigh, then, "Love you."

He freezes, telling himself it doesn't count because she's asleep.

But the words echo long after Brennan resumes snoring softly.


	11. Possession

**Title:**  Possession  
 **Pairing:** Booth/Brennan  
 **Series:** Into the Fire  
 **Series Summary:** This is a series of oneshot 300-word ficlets about Booth and Brennan crossing the line over and over again.  
 **Prompt:** #19 (Greedy)  
 **Prompt Table:** Sex  
 **Written for:** drabble123 **  
Word Count:**  300 **  
Rating:** PG-13 **  
Spoilers:** None(This is set in the future; Booth and Brennan are officially involved.)  **  
Disclaimer:**  Bones and its characters belong to FOX, not me. This story is purely meant to entertain. No copyright infringement is intended. **  
Feedback:** is always appreciated. My sincere thanks to all those who read and/or comment; you really do make writing fanfic more fun than it already is. :) ****  


* * *

**Possession**

The front door clicked shut. Brennan whirled to face Booth as he tossed his jacket and tie on her sofa, where they landed with a swish of fabric. "I am not a helpless damsel in distress, Booth. You should know better than that by now."

"What was I supposed to do? The guy touched your ass, Bones."

"Exactly.  _Mine_." She narrowed her eyes. "Not yours."

"Right. So I was supposed to just stand there and grin like an idiot while some asshole groped my girlfriend."

"I can take care of myself, Booth. You were like a dog marking its territory; I am not your territory." Chin raised, she stepped toward him. "I do not belong to you."

"I know that." His jaw tightened and then relaxed as he blinked back at her, the suggestion of a smile flickering around the edges of his mouth. "But maybe I belong to you."

Clasping her hand, he pressed it against him. "This, Bones, is yours."

Her eyes widened as she registered the erection swelling beneath her palm. The blood that heated her cheeks only seconds ago rushed downward as he lifted her hand and flattened it over his chest.

"So's this," he said, holding her gaze as his heart thudded under her fingers. "Would it be so bad," he asked, "if I was yours, and you were mine?" He released her only to brush his thumb over her bottom lip.

The glancing touch transmuted anger into something else and left Brennan clutching the crisp fabric of Booth's shirt. "I…"

"Hm?"

"I'm…not sure," she admitted.

"Maybe I can convince you," he said, steering her until her legs hit the back of the sofa.

* * *

Later, head pillowed on Booth's chest, Brennan said, "I could have broken that man's hand if I wanted to."

"I know."


	12. Destination Unknown

**Title:**    
 **Pairing:** Booth/Brennan  
 **Series:** Into the Fire  
 **Series Summary:** This is a series of oneshot 300-word ficlets about Booth and Brennan crossing the line over and over again.  
 **Prompt:** #8 (Tongue)  
 **Prompt Table:** Sex  
 **Written for:** drabble123 **  
Word Count:**  300 **  
Rating:** PG-13 **  
Spoilers:** There's a reference to The Santa in the Slush. **  
Disclaimer:**  Bones and its characters belong to FOX, not me. This story is purely meant to entertain. No copyright infringement is intended. **  
Feedback:** is always appreciated. My sincere thanks to all those who read and/or comment; you really do make writing fanfic more fun than it already is. :) ****  


* * *

**Destination Unknown**

Five vessels buffeted by winds dance on a storm-tossed sea: tectonic plates shift and collide beneath their feet. Continents break apart and realign, mountains crumbling and rising when Brennan feels the first glancing touch of her partner's tongue – and discovers she's lost the ability to speak as rational thought spins far, far away.

* * *

They argue; that's just what they do. They comfort each other, too; that's just who they've become. Five of her fingers rest on his forearm, one of his arms warms the sad curve of her shoulders: this, then, is how Booth counts the tragedies of their lives.

* * *

One day he finds her staring off into the distance, seeing things he can only guess at. But her eyes are liquid and as grey as a storm cloud (cumulonimbus, he remembers her telling Parker once, right before they were drenched by rain), and silver paints the familiar planes of her face.

It doesn't matter why, it simply matters that it is so.

Before he can convince himself to stop, Booth sips the salt on her cheeks; it tastes like a prayer for which he's forgotten the words. He feels her stop breathing, her gaze heavy on his face as he pulls back to look at her.

"What-?" she asks, before he presses a finger to her lips.

The words still (only temporarily, he knows), she blinks and tilts her head to the side, and her eyes remain open, watchful, as he crosses the last line between them.

Gallons of coffee consumed by them both, God knows how many miles logged in his SUV, too few victims given back their names and faces and this, then, is where it's all brought them, to a place he swore to avoid: her mouth pressed against his, his breath mingled with hers.


	13. The Art of Compromise

**Title:** The Art of Compromise **  
Pairing:** Brennan, Booth **  
Rating:** PG **  
Timeline:** Set in the future. **  
** **Spoilers:** None  
 **Prompt:** #14 (Delicious)  
 **Written for:**  drabble123 at LiveJournal **  
Word Count:**  300  
 **Disclaimer:**  Bones and its characters belong to FOX, not me. This story is purely meant to entertain. No copyright infringement is intended. ****  


* * *

**The Art of Compromise** **  
**

There's a constant low-level noise at the lab. It's the pulse of the computers and machines that help the workers there do their jobs. Over the years, Booth's grown so used to the sound that he hardly even hears it anymore – like he no longer sees the skulls and anthropological artifacts that line the walls of his partner's office. But tonight the late hour and lack of people bring the electronic hum to his attention.

He smiles, thinking of the people at the Jeffersonian he considers friends. The squints are still squinty, and he's still just a regular guy, but now the squints are  _his_.

Booth's mouth is still turned up in a smile when he stops outside Brennan's door, peering inside. His gaze skips over the desk and pauses at the couch.

Brennan doesn't look up, just nibbles her pen cap as he lifts her bare feet from the cushions and sits, settling them in his lap. "Hungry?" he says, pressing his thumb into the ball of her foot.

A pleased sigh slips from her mouth; she drops the pen and looks at him. "No. I ate dinner."

"Uh huh. So what'd you eat?"

For a long moment, Brennan remains silent. Finally, she frowns. "I don't remember."

"That's what I thought." He gives her pinky toe a gentle tug before standing and holding out his hand. "Come on, babe. I'll make you a PB&J sandwich."

"Booth," she warns.

"What, you don't like PB&J? I'm sure I can find something else for you to eat," he says, with a wink.

"You know I don't like to be called babe."

"OK. We'll compromise - Dr. Babe."

With one last narrow-eyed glance, Brennan stands, ignoring his hand. "If you promise to continue that massage, I will consider your proposal."

Booth smiles. "Deal."

* * *

**Thank you for reading! :)**


	14. What Booth Knew

**Title:** What Booth Knew **  
Pairing:** Brennan, Booth **  
Rating:** PG **-** 13 **  
Timeline:** Set in the future. **  
** **Spoilers:** None  
 **Prompt:** #3 (Bite)  
 **Written for:**  drabble123 at LiveJournal **  
Word Count:**  300  
 **Disclaimer:**  Bones and its characters belong to FOX, not me. This story is purely meant to entertain. No copyright infringement is intended. ****  


* * *

**What Booth Knew** **  
**

Storms made his partner horny.

Booth knew this from experience. Granted, it was experience he'd never really expected to have. But he made it his business to know people the way his partner/girlfriend (man, was it weird to think of her that way now - even though he'd imagined her naked many times before they'd taken their partnership to a different place) knew bones.

Of course, he thought with a smile, he knew bones, too; he knew Bones' bones. He knew the pale arc of her hip as she snored beside him in the pre-dawn light. He knew her pebbled spine under the press of his tongue. And he knew the deceptively delicate flex of her wrist beneath his fingers as he pinned her arms over her head and thrust them both past the point of no return.

So when Brennan nudged his shin with her bare foot and let her spoon rest in her bowl of oatmeal with a small clink, Booth waited. "Hm?" he asked, not glancing up from the paper.

"I'm going to go back to bed."

"You feeling OK?" Booth picked up the Sports section. "I thought you wanted to go to the lab today."

"I did. And now I don't." She paused. "Is that a problem for you?"

Biting back a grin, Booth shrugged. "Of course not. I'm just concerned about your health."

"Well thank you for your concern, but I feel fine."

"You're welcome," he said, placidly.

A rumble of thunder echoed. Booth didn't have to wait long before Brennan nudged his shin again, this time walking her toes up toward his knee. "I think you should join me."

"You can just tell me you want to use me for my body, Bones."

"I'd like to use you for your body now, Booth."

"OK."

* * *

**Thank you for reading/commenting! :)**


	15. You Scratch My Back...

**Title:** You Scratch My Back **...  
Pairing: **Brennan, Booth **  
Rating:** PG **-** 13 **  
Timeline:** Set in the future. **  
** **Spoilers:** None  
 **Prompt:** #17 (Scratch)  
 **Written for:**  drabble123 at LiveJournal **  
Word Count:**  300  
 **Disclaimer:**  Bones and its characters belong to FOX, not me. This story is purely meant to entertain. No copyright infringement is intended. ****  


* * *

**You Scratch My Back...**

"You have a scratch on your back." Her voice seemed to come from far away. He always suspected she had good hands, what with all the detailed work she did, fitting together even the tiniest bits of bone; as he recently discovered, he was right. Not only did his gorgeous girlfriend help give victims back their identity, she gave a mean backrub.

Booth lay sprawled on his stomach in his bed, with Brennan straddling his hips. "Mmph," he replied into his pillow.

"I said"-Brennan stopped kneading his shoulders and dug her fingers into his armpit-"there is a scratch on your back."

"Hey, quit it," he said, turning his head and almost laughing at the ticklish sensation. "I heard you the first time." Wriggling a little to get comfortable again, he said, "Yeah, there's a scratch on my back – and you put it there."

"I did not," she protested.

"Well, I sure as hell didn't do it, and as far as I know, I'm not sleeping with anyone else."

"As far as you know?"

Booth grinned. Despite how their relationship had changed, some things hadn't: he still knew exactly which buttons to push. "Jealous, Bones?" He pushed up onto his hands and knees, dislodging Brennan and sending her tumbling onto her back.

Her cheeks colored with a hint of pink. "Hardly. I was merely questioning the logic of your statement. If you were involved with someone else, however casually—"

"Don't worry," he said, leaning in until his mouth grazed her ear, "you're the only woman I want scratching my back." He felt her shiver.

A slim eyebrow arched. "And I suppose you expect me to be grateful for that."

He winked. "I'll settle for a kiss."

"One kiss?"

"For starters," he said, sliding his hand under her t-shirt.

* * *

**Only five more prompts to go... Thank you for reading/commenting! :)**


	16. Coffee and Conversation

**Title:** Coffee and Conversation **  
Pairing:** Brennan, Booth **  
Rating:** M **  
Timeline:** Set in the future. **  
** **Spoilers:** None  
 **Prompt:** #10 (Swallow)  
 **Written for:**  drabble123 at LiveJournal **  
Word Count:**  300  
 **Disclaimer:**  Bones and its characters belong to FOX, not me. This story is purely meant to entertain. No copyright infringement is intended. ****  


* * *

**Coffee and Conversation**

They were cruising down 95, when Booth grabbed his coffee from the console and lifted it to his lips, anticipating the caffeinated heaven.

"Does it bother you that I don't swallow your ejaculate during oral sex?" Brennan asked from the passenger seat.

Booth slammed on the brakes, splashing hot coffee on himself. "Jesus, Bones!"

"What?" She stared back at him with raised eyebrows, as if  _he_  was the crazy one.

"Give a guy a little warning before you say something like that."

"A warning?"

"Yeah, a warning."

"Such as what? 'Please prepare yourself for our impending conversation about oral sex?'"

Rolling his eyes, Booth set down the cup and turned his attention back toward the road in an effort to avoid starting the week with a car accident. "Hand me some napkins, will ya?"

Without comment, Brennan did as he asked. Booth dabbed at his hand and jacket before giving up and tossing the balled-up napkins into the backseat.

"So?"

"So what?" Booth replied, exasperation creeping into his voice.

"Does it bother you that—"

"Never mind. I get it," he said, cutting her off. "No, it doesn't bug me." Frowning, he shot her a glance. "Why are you even asking me this?"

"When I was at Angela's, I perused some of her magazines. In one publication - I believe it was titled  _Cosmopolitan_  - there was an article about men's top ten secret desires. Apparently that's number two."

"Remind me to have a chat with Angela," he muttered under his breath.

"Hm?"

"Don't read those dumb magazines. They don't know what they're talking about."

"So you don't want me to swallow-"

"Can we discuss this later?"

"Fine."

Five minutes passed. "So what's number one?"

"Watching two women perform lesbian acts."

It was going to be a long drive.

* * *

**A/N:**  ;) Thanks for reading and/or commenting.


	17. The Kind of Guy Who Laughs At a Funeral

**Title:** The Kind of Guy Who Laughs At a Funeral **  
Pairing:** Brennan, Booth **  
Rating:** PG-13 **  
Timeline:** Set in the future. **  
** **Spoilers:** None  
 **Prompt:** #12 (Dirty)  
 **Written for:**  drabble123 at LiveJournal **  
Word Count:**  300  
 **Disclaimer:**  Bones and its characters belong to FOX, not me. This story is purely meant to entertain. No copyright infringement is intended. ****  


* * *

**The Kind of Guy Who Laughs At a Funeral** **  
**

"So what movie did you choose for tonight?"

"You're in for a treat," Booth replied, rubbing his hands together with glee. "Tonight's a double feature:  _Terminator_  and  _Terminator 2_."

Brennan's shoulders drooped. "I'm almost afraid to ask, but are these more of those movies with over-the-top car chases and completely unrealistic pyrotechnics?"

"Hell, yeah! And cyborgs and Ah-nold, too." He pulled the DVD cases out of the Blockbuster bag and turned to face Brennan. "I'll be back."

She gave him a blank look. "From where?"

"Never mind."

"But I don't understand; where are you going?"

"Just forget it. It was a joke."

"Well, in any case, next week is _my_  choice. We'll be watching Fellini's  _8½_ ; it's a fascinating examination of the creative process."

Unable to help himself, Booth snickered.

"Why are you laughing?"

"You said, 'Fellini.' You know, like"—he lowered his voice to a whisper and waggled his eyebrows—"fellatio."

Frowning, Brennan flashed him a severe look through narrowed eyes. "That is so juvenile," she said, sighing with disapproval. "Sometimes I think you possess the maturity of a 10-year-old boy."

"And sometimes I think you're an 80-year-old woman trapped in the body of a sexy scientist," he shot back, grinning to take the sting out of his words.

Brennan sniffed and shifted several inches away from him on the couch. "I don't think that's very funny."

"Aww, come on, Bones. Don't be like that." Scooting closer, he tried to put his arm around her stiff shoulders, but she shrugged it off. "You know I was just kidding."

"Not everything is a joke, Booth."

"OK, as a show of good faith, I'll let you pick the restaurant tomorrow night."

"Anywhere I want?"

"Anywhere you want. Even"—he groaned in mock-defeat—"a totally vegetarian place."

"I forgive you."

"Thank God."

* * *

**A/N:** Happy Friday, folks! Thanks for reading and/or commenting. Only three more prompts to go. :)


	18. My Heart Thrown Open Wide

**Title:** My Heart Thrown Open Wide **  
Pairing:** Brennan, Booth **  
Rating:** PG **  
Timeline:** Set in the future. **  
** **Spoilers:** None  
 **Prompt:** #16 (Anonymous)  
 **Written for:**  drabble123 at LiveJournal **  
Word Count:**  300  
 **Disclaimer:**  Bones and its characters belong to FOX, not me. This story is purely meant to entertain. No copyright infringement is intended. ****  


* * *

**My Heart Thrown Open Wide**

One Monday morning in April, Brennan drives to the lab and finds herself nearly regretful as she parks. Her work is a calling, and the bones, they do call to her, but outside her car window the world is thawing and greening and for a moment, she wants to be out there, not inside, surrounded by steel.

Her shoulders droop as she switches on her computer and slides into her chair. As the screen flickers on, her gaze lights on a flash of yellow. Next to her monitor sits a beaker filled with a cluster of daffodils.

With one hand she slides the beaker toward her; the daffodil heads bob cheerfully in greeting, and she almost catches herself saying, "Good morning," in response. The moment of fancifulness makes her cheeks warm and pulls a smile from her as she imagines her gift-giver catching her talking to flowers.

As impossible as it is, the casual bouquet appears to have captured a beam of the early spring sunlight she'd just been admiring, and illuminated her office with it.

As Brennan's day begins in earnest, a smile lingers on her lips.

* * *

It is long past sundown when Booth appears, tall, hands in his pockets, wearing a grin and a jacket that are both slightly rumpled by the day. Despite Brennan's earlier resolve to take a quick walk during lunch, she forgot, carried away by the myriad tasks that vied for her attention. No matter, though; today she got her sunshine in the form of her favorite flowers left for her by a man who has given her so much she needed but hadn't known to ask for.

"Ready to go?"

"Absolutely."

"You OK? Usually I have to beg you to leave."

Standing, Brennan glances around before kissing Booth's cheek. "I'm wonderful."

Booth smiles.

* * *

**A/N:** Achoo! OK, who got me sick? ;) Thanks for reading and/or commenting.


	19. Quid Pro Quo

**Title:** Quid Pro Quo **  
Pairing:** Brennan, Booth **  
Rating:** PG **  
Timeline:** Set in the not-too-distant future. **  
** **Spoilers:** References to episodes through The Finger in the Nest.  
 **Prompt:** #6 (Shiver)  
 **Written for:**  drabble123 at LiveJournal **  
Word Count:**  300  
 **Disclaimer:**  Bones and its characters belong to FOX, not me. This story is purely meant to entertain. No copyright infringement is intended. ****  


* * *

**Quid Pro Quo**

He coaxes her to the grave of the woman she doesn't know if she'll ever fathom… or stop missing.  _Just for once, Bones, do what people do….Talk to your mom._  He speaks in tongues – about princesses and drawbridges; she watches his mouth curl around the syllables, imagines the puff of air as he hits the plosives, but is frustrated by her own inability to understand.

Still, it is his unyielding shoulder she seeks when she grieves: for a dog who was not and never will be her companion, except in a fleeting moment of fantasy she should have known better than to indulge; for the protégé who was always more than that; for the father lost then found then lost again.

Friendship forged by all the intangibles that make up their days. From  _Don't call me Bones_  to acceptance of a name she'll tolerate from no one else. This is who they are now; this is who they've become.

* * *

The week has scratched itself into Booth's face in letters even she can read. A former orphanage. The discovery of deciduous teeth and several sets of long bones exhibiting a lack of epiphyseal fusion.

Children's bones.

When Booth turns down her offer of dinner, she lets him go.

After hours unspool without a call, she finally finds him at the gym. Sweat molds his shirt to his back, and his tense shoulders telegraph his awareness of her presence. The punching bag shudders beneath the insistent kiss of his fists. Silently, she watches him battle an opponent she cannot see.

When she can stand it no longer, she steps behind him. Arms around his waist, she holds on until he shivers and exhales, head bowed. Slowly, his hand creeps over hers.

This is who they are now; this is who they've become.

* * *

**A/N:** As always, many thanks to everyone who reads and/or comments.


	20. Good Morning, Baby

**Title:** Good Morning, Baby **  
Pairing:** Brennan, Booth **  
Rating:** PG-13 **  
Timeline:** Set in the not-too-distant future. **  
** **Spoilers:** None.  
 **Prompt:** #18 (Whore)  
 **Written for:**  drabble123 at LiveJournal **  
Word Count:**  300  
 **Disclaimer:**  Bones and its characters belong to FOX, not me. This story is purely meant to entertain. No copyright infringement is intended. ****  


* * *

**Good Morning, Baby**

"Do you ever compare me to the many other women you've slept with?"

"Well good morning to you, too, Bones."

"Good morning. So, do you?"

"You make it sound like I'm some kind of man-whore."

"That's not my intention. But you are a healthy, attractive male; even if we weren't involved, I would assume you had a normal number of sexual partners."

"No, I don't stack you up against anyone else." Booth sighed. "Why, do you?" he asked, against his better judgment.

"Yes."

"What?" he said, unable to keep the edge out of his voice as he pictured her ranking him against every other guy she'd slept with.

"Look, we've had other partners. I believe it's only normal we're aware of differences."

"Great." Rolling onto his back, Booth covered his face with his pillow.

The edge of the pillow lifted. Booth scowled; Brennan looked back at him calmly, her lips twitching suspiciously. "Before you get upset, don't you want to hear what I concluded?"

"Not really," he lied.

"I concluded"—she brushed a hand over his jaw, fingertips catching on his morning stubble—"that while there are variations in technique and build, none of that matters. There were other men; now there is you." Her gaze softened, and Booth found his irritation dissolving. "I can't explain it or quantify it." She frowned. "But what matters is that I… love you. That's new for me, you know. I—"

"I know." Tossing away the pillow, he tugged Brennan down against him. _Love._  He knew the word didn't come easily to her. "Thank you," he said against her cheek.

"For what?"

"For taking a leap of faith with me."

"But it's not faith," she shot back.

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know."

"I do." Smiling, Booth kissed his partner good morning.

* * *

**A/N** : And that brings us to the end of  _Into the Fire_. I've enjoyed writing this; I hope you've enjoyed reading it. If you have a sec, I'm always interested to hear what you thought. Hugs and thanks to everyone who read  & commented or read & lurked. 

Happy Bones Day, friends. :)


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